


Call for a Nightmare

by itszhyboo



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Classic Rivals Banter, Contracts, Gen, Mentioned Philza Minecraft, Mentioned Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Realistic Minecraft, Rivals, The End, Weapons, mentioned badboyhalo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:08:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29079129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itszhyboo/pseuds/itszhyboo
Summary: The famous Technoblade finds himself utterly, inconceivably, and incurably bored. Raring for an adventure, he finds himself taking on a near-impossible task—one that he certainly can't even dream to complete... not without help, of course.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 69





	Call for a Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, Ao3! My name's Zhy, and this is my first time posting any of my work on here so let me know what you guys think! This story is gen/platonic, and Techno has explicitly stated that doesn't want to be in shipping fanfiction so you shouldn't be reading that shit anyway, ma dudes.
> 
> Rivals fans, I hope you enjoy and no-beta, we die like Dream's two canon lives. o7

Boots splashed in the puddles growing on the side of the street; the rain beat down violently on city roofs; the smack of raindrops on metal penetrated the dreary atmosphere.

As Techno made his way swiftly across Aldar, the hood of a deep, navy blue cloak pulled up against the rain, he reflected on the decision he had made and the risk he was currently taking. He was heading to a Nightmare's tavern... alone... without any patron... as an undercover guardsmen. If even a single strand of his long, pale pink hair poked out from his hood, he was going to get stabbed on the spot.

"This is the worst idea you've ever had," he mumbled to himself, picking his way through the unusually sparse city crowd. The storm currently raging was the biggest contributing factor.

The closest Nightmare congregation was in the heart of Aldar's black market district—on the opposite side of the city from the hideout of the Guards Guild. There was a good reason for the separation; Nightmare and the Guard were as close to major powers as the chaotic, disorganized territory could get and the two groups held vastly conflicting ideals.

But, lately, Techno had found himself, well, bored and a bored Technoblade was as unpredictable and insufferable as any of the mysterious dark creatures that stalked the magical forests within the territory. So, this morning, Techno had strolled up to the Guard's mission board—members openly gawking or glaring venomously at the mask of bone concealing his eyes and the crown glistening atop his head—and tore a note off it with his eyes closed. He left his mission up to Fate and, luckily, Lady Fate was smiling down upon him because the contents of the weathered note in hands made him intrigued beyond belief. He smirked when he saw it, but another thought nagged at him: he couldn't complete this task alone.

\---

Techno felt a water droplet slap against his cheek. He grimaced, slightly uncomfortable with the way the entirety of his face was exposed to the chilly night air. Instead of being strapped to his face, his boar mask was hanging from the side of his belt, hiding beneath the folds of his cloak. It would be a dead give-away of his reputation to any of the Nightmare clan, even more than the unnatural pastel hue of his hair.

From across the street, Techno watched an armored woman converse briefly with the imposing, muscular man guarding the door to the tavern before slipping into the building with a two-fingered salute.

He took a breath and stroked a finger across the hilt of his concealed short sword, not his first choice of weapon but certainly more discreet than his iconic diamond, long sword. He opened his eyes and crossed the street.

\---

The Nightmare tavern wasn't the trashy, degenerate pit full of low-lives that Techno had expected.

In fact, it was quite the opposite.

The tavern had an imposing, high-bolted ceiling that gave the building a look of grandeur—chandlers with circles of candles only adding to the spectacle. Glistering bar tops lined either side of the entrance while large, sturdy wooden tables were scattered throughout the floor space. Against the back wall was a stage for performers, like one would expect to find in any tavern. It seems the devious minds and twisted hearts of the Nightmare clan could still enjoy the lull of music like anyone else.

Techno took another deep breath and made way for a bar seat, hoping to use the cover of a casual drink to scan the room for his target. Although he usually walked with near pompous confidence, his posture immaculate and his chin up, Techno forced himself to slouch across the tavern, prowling rather than marching and keeping his face mostly obscured by his large hood.

Ordering a glass of whiskey that he was certainly never going to consume, Techno made himself semi-comfortable on the stiff surface of a bar stool and prepared himself to channel all his observational prowess. He sighed a bit internally—it was a skill he was much more enthusiastic to use in a fight rather than an impulsive stealth mission. Not to mention that “impulsive” and “stealth” should never be uttered consecutively in a sentence for fear of one’s life choice. Alas, it was happening to him regardless.

\---

Techno finally spotted Dream at a table in the far corner of the room. Even in the dim light of the tavern, he was blatantly recognizable by the ominous, crudely-drawn smiley-face mask that adorned his face and the notorious, glowing purple axe next to him.

Dream was dressed in seemingly practical adventuring and combat gear—except for the fluorescent green hue of his tunic—and his feet were propped up on the table, his chair tilted back on two legs. The mercenary sat with two other Nightmares, who were gesturing animatedly. They appeared to be in an intense debate, despite the wide grins on their faces. Dream's body language remained unreadable as one of his companions, a tan, stocky man with a white bandana wrapped around his head, slammed his hands down on the table and the other, a lean figure donning a red and black robe, pointed accusingly at the man with the bandana.

Unfortunately, it would probably be best if Techno bided his time and waited for Dream's companions to leave. It was a tremendous risk to confront one Nightmare, much less three, and Techno figured more spectators would only lead to more questions. So, he swirled the whiskey in his full glass and mustered his relatively low supply of patience.

\---

It took a couple of minutes for the group at Dream's table to disperse, but when they did, leaving Dream alone in the tavern, Techno was quickly to slide into the seat opposite Dream and push his untouched glass of whiskey across the table as some sort of wild peace treaty.

Dream turned his head to stare at Techno. The painted eyes of his mask seemed to drill into Techno's soul. Techno stared back, near unblinking. Without a word, he nudged the glass closer. Dream glanced down at the glass and then back up at Techno. "I don't take this off even for drinks, buddy. I don't know what you're trying to do here."

Techno thought so. "Just a show of good faith." He kept his tone light and non-threatening with the smallest hint of dangerous allure to pique the other man's interest. "I was wondering if you'd like to step outside with me. I have a business inquiry."

Dream leaned back in his chair, knitting his hands together and folding them into his lap. "Business, huh? What do you specialize in?"

"High profile combat missions," Techno answered with ease. He knew many of the distinctions of the Nightmare clan from copious confrontations, mhm, interrogations of not-so tight-lipped members. Dream's own distinction was high profile but in the realm of stealth missions, specifically executions and assassinations.

Dream cocked his head to the side before giving Techno a slow nod. He slid out of his seat, secured his axe to his back, and then gestured for Techno to lead them out.

Techno stood, the legs of his chair scraping discordantly against the stone floor, and did just that.

\---

Techno led Dream in perfect silence to an alleyway a few blocks away from the tavern. When they entered the dark, gritty street, Dream turned bodily to stare at Techno, as if raising an eyebrow at him under the mask.

Techno side-eyed him before pointing at a rickety wooden staircase that granted access to the building's flat, stone roof. Dream ascended up the stairs first, his lanky legs skipping a stair in between. Techno shortly followed suit.

Dream's back remained facing Techno as he made his way up the molding, precarious wooden staircase that led to the roof.

But that changed quickly when Techno found himself with the lethal blade of a glimmering, purple axe in his face.

Techno's eyes widened in surprise, but he rapidly got his bearings. He latched onto the handle of the axe, avoiding Dream's hands and shoved it roughly away from his direction. Advancing to more stable ground, on the other side of the rooftop, Techno unsheathed his short sword, the light of the moon glinting off a mix of diamond and steel.

Dream came at him again, taking a vicious swing at Techno's head. Techno jumped back before attempting to take a stab at Dream's exposed right-side. Dream twisted his torso to dodge and Techno rolled behind him, wary of positioning himself too close to the roof's edge.

Techno, in a crouch, swiped out his leg, hoping to unbalance Dream. Dream's legs gave out beneath him, but he managed to slam the hilt of his axe directly into Techno's skull as he went down.

Techno stumbled to the ground, vision briefly whiting out, but grit his teeth and scrambled to his feet, dark spots dancing in his vision and the back of his head throbbing.

Dream hopped to his feet with much more grace and the sound of his axe strapping against rough stone. It was Techno who made the first move this time, darting at Dream with near unnatural speed. He aimed for Dream's throat but found his blade embedded in the thick wood of his axe.

Techno swiftly yanked out his blade before switching it between hands and going for a stab at Dream's lower torso—right where his kidney resided.

Dream twisted once again to avoid the attack, gaining only a scratch. He then latched onto the fabric of Techno's cloak, tugging Techno towards him and using the momentum to hurl Techno to the ground.

Techno popped up into a crouch again but straightened to an upright stance when he saw that Dream hadn't gone back in for the attack. The man clearly had the opportunity there for a swing at Techno.

For a moment, the duo faced each other, hackles raised and weapons at the ready. Techno gaze, concealed by his hood, flickered around rapidly, analyzing Dream stance, readying for an attack.

All that came was a laugh.

Every bit of tension escaped Dream's body and he let out a wheeze of a laugh. His shoulders stood with the chuckles and he impaled his axe on the stone roof, leaning on it with an unsettling level of casualty.

Techno, hesitantly, straightened out of his fighting stance, undeniably wary of the incredibly-skilled, cackling mercenary standing in front of him. His sword hung loose in his hand, but he didn't sheath it.

Dream leaned further onto his axe, small chuckles still escaping his mouth. "You're a fucking guardsman." It was a statement, not a question. "Imagine. A guardsman sneaking into  _ our _ tavern to talk to  _ me _ . If it's a bounty you've come to collect, you've made the worst decision of your life. And the last."

Even with the haunting, smiley face mask obscuring his face, Techno could tell that Dream was full-on leering at him. His words were dripping with dark amusement, excited at the prospect of spilling blood. Lunatic.

Techno sighed, clearly, the nuisances of his fighting style had given him away. Well, there was no other way around it. He sheathed his sword, reached his hands up, and pulled the hood from his head. "My name is Technoblade. I'm a guardsman, and I have a proposition for you."

Silence engulfed them again.

"Oh my—" Dream's words descended into more wheezing as the man cackled at Techno's introduction as if it were the most hysterical joke he's ever heard.

Techno sighed heavily before rolling his eyes. "Are you done? At this rate, the suns gonna rise before we finish this."

In response, Dream just let out another wheeze. Techno was surprised he hadn't collapsed on the floor at this point.

After a few moments, Dream was finally about to pull himself together. “Holy shit—” He was still failing to contain his amusement. Techno wished he could find the situation half as funny, but the time he had spent in the tavern sitting and doing nothing started his brains’ descent into incoherent screaming—purely due to boredom, of course. He was deathly close (ha) to stabbing the nearest living thing, which, unfortunately, just so happened to be the man whose well-being was in his best interest. “ _ The _ Technoblade wants  _ my _ help?”

The way Dream phrased it made Techno want to stab him regardless. He gave Dream a completely blank expression, one that tangibly lynched the aurora of disappointment into the air, and spoke with no infliction, “It’s a contract, but I can leave if you want. There’s a book on ancient Hinkeen battle tactics calling my name.”

Techno half-turned to go, purely for the theatrics of it, but Dream caught his attention with a languid wave of his hand. “No, please continue. ‘Though, you should know: I'm anything but cheap," Dream quipped, mischief coloring his words. Obnoxious.

"Contractually? I know. Personality-wise? Debatable," Techno deadpanned back.

Dream remained silent but Techno could imagine his lips curling into a smile. "You're funnier than the rumors suggest," Dream replied, his tone a playful lithe.

"And your presence is shockingly tolerable."

"Most people don't experience my presence for very long."

"I would hope so. It's terribly inefficient to converse with the dead."

"Indeed. Abhorrent for business."

A new tension sparked in the air as both men were exposed to their stark similarities and became uncomfortable aware of the allegiances that distanced them from each other.

Dream stepped away from his axe, still embedded in the concrete roof, and approached Techno. "So, what've you got for me?"

Techno, not sensing any sort of malicious intent from the other man, fished the folded mission note out of the pocket of his pants. Delicately, he smoothed it out and handed it to Dream. "The Master Builder wishes to establish a settlement in the End realm, but he needs the dragon out of the way to begin his project."

Dream's head moved gradually side-to-side, scanning the contents of the note. "And what's in it for me?" Dream asked. An essential question. Techno wouldn't have expected any less from a high profile mercenary.

"A hefty bounty split 50-50, your choice of trophy, and a significant boost to your reputation."

Dream cocked his head to the side, contemplating Techno's offer. "Wow, that's actually a fair deal. I half expected you to scam me."

"I'm not doing this for cash or prestige."

"Then what are you doing it for?" Dream shot back.

Techno shrugged before responding with a simple, "I'm bored."

At that Dream let out another burst of laughter, turning back towards his upright weapon. "Bold. I like it." Dream yanked his axe out of the ground and sheathed it in the strap slung across his back. "I think we're going to get along just fine."


End file.
